


Your Protector Redux

by anitapenntoo



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:44:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anitapenntoo/pseuds/anitapenntoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal Lecter returns to the one he left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Protector Redux

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Due to some issues with an old e-mail account, I'm going to continue adding stories under this new account name. Here is the final chapter of "Your Protector", but as a single/stand alone chapter. I apologize for taking so long to complete this story, so please forgive my tardiness in such matters. I already have another idea for a story involving dear old Uncle Robert, but we'll see how that goes. Thanks for taking the time to read this story. It was a pleasure to write, and I love hearing from you guys.

Hannibal Lecter stared at the photo that had been sent to him months ago. It was a simple black and white photo that he kept on his person at all times. The stillness of the airplane ride, along with the fact that he was on a red eye that took him from Chicago to Rome and now to Paris tended to make him a bit reflective.

There were times the photo was used as a bookmark, even though he thought it kind of rude to do such a thing to his beloved Sophia Larsen. Most of the time though, he allowed the photo to give him hope that the two of them would be able to run away and start a new life even if he had no idea what it would contain. 

Looking at the photo again, he could tell that she wasn't aware of the fact that she was being photographed. There she was, staring at a piece of photography on display at the Musee D'Orsay. After staring at it enough, he finally recognized the Lady Clementina Hawarden print as the one that so enchanted her. According to his uncle, and her current caretaker Robert, Paris agreed with her in every way possible. She no longer wore jeans and clothing that was almost childish in nature. Her evolution was one to be admired, and in many ways, envied. Hannibal touched the photo, caressed it almost, wondering just what was she thinking in that moment. It appeared as if she was having a silent conversation with the woman in the print. A woman from the 1800's compared to a woman in 2014. 

Flipping the photo over, he read the recognizable handwriting from his uncle: This one's a lovely one, this one. Leaning back into the leather seat, Hannibal closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to show her the city through his own eyes. He had called his uncle before he boarded his flight to tell him that he would be arriving in a matter of hours. Hannibal was never one that indulged in paranoia, but when his flights were delayed, he couldn't help but wonder if the FBI finally caught up with him. As always, he was more than three steps ahead in the game. It was a false sense of security, yes, but he was confident in his skills of escape.

As the cab arrived at his uncle's apartment, Hannibal exited the vehicle and immediately noticed the streets that were wet from a light rain storm. Tipping the cab driver generously after he grabbed Hannibal's two bags out of the trunk, Hannibal admired the city before stepping into the building. 

"Hannibal! It's good to see you made it safely." Robert said as he hugged his nephew. "Here, let me take your jacket."

"Thank you so much for everything that you have done, especially over these last few months."

"She misses you, even though she would never admit such words to me."

 

"Where is Sophia?" Hannibal asked as he saw his uncle hang his jacket up in the a nearby closet.

"She complained of a headache earlier, and went off to bed. She knows that you're returning, but I think the pain outweighed the joy of such news." Robert said. "Your timing is perfect if I must say. My friends have been trying to get me to spend some time with them in Burgundy. After receiving your correspondence, I felt it was time to take them up on such kindness. I'm sure you and Sophia have a lot of catching up to do."

"What room is she in?" Hannibal asked.

"Upstairs, the second one to the left."

Hannibal began to walk up the stairs, but then paused. "My old room?"

"She doesn't know that." Robert added.

Hannibal crept into the room and was welcomed with the light glow of a table lamp. The city was lit up, and in the distance one could see the Eiffel Tower. Given all of the times Hannibal had been to Paris, the lit up Eiffel Tower was now almost a cliche. Removing his pants and shirt, he slowly pulled back the covers and slid in next to Sophia on the bed.

It wasn't until he placed his hand on her shoulder that he heard her inhale. He sensed what she was now aware of. Trailing his fingers down her skin, he lingered on the soft strap of the chemise that drifted off her shoulder. 

"Are you here to stay?" Sophia asked, as her fingers grabbed those on her shoulder.

"It appears so." Hannibal replied as he kissed her shoulder. "Have you taken something for your headache?"

"Yes. I blame the cigarettes. I'm surprised I don't reek of one given the laws over here." Sophia said as she turned over to see him.

"You Americans, always complaining about something." Hannibal said, a smile on his face.

"I missed you." She said as she started running her hands over his skin.

"You've already forgotten the map of my flesh?" Hannibal asked.

"Never." Sophia said, focusing her vision on his body rather than his face. 

Hannibal could tell that she was tired, and he didn't want to force a conversation that would be better shared in a matter of hours. Scooting back to where his back leaned against headboard, he gently pulled Sophia up and rested her head on his lap. Massaging her temples, her relaxing into him made him all the more eager to catch up with her in more than just conversation. 

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, her scars were now badges of honor on her flesh. 

The next morning Hannibal immediately noticed the emptiness when he opened his eyes. He felt well rested, but could have used an extra hour or two. Hearing laughter coming from downstairs, he wanted to know what caused such sounds to come from his protege.

"I told you I was going to master this." Sophia said as she filled the French press coffee maker with enough water. "Now I must let it set for two to three minutes."

"And then you will..." Robert added.

"Then I s-l-o-w-l-y lower the top to get the most robust flavor."

"He's right, you know." Hannibal added, smiling at the scene he was witnessing.

"Would you like a cup?" Sophia asked.

"I would love one." He replied.

"First it was the Vietnamese version of coffee making, and now you can add this one to your repertoire." Robert said.

"I'm going to make crepes this morning. I'm personally not too fond of sweet stuff for breakfast, but sometimes the such things are necessary." Sophia said as she began mixing up the ingredients. 

"What time does your train leave?" Hannibal asked.

"In a little less than five hours." 

"That should be plenty of time then." Sophia added. 

Breakfast afforded them the time to catch up on things, but it wasn't the place for Sophia and Hannibal to have the conversation that truly needed to happen. Hannibal learned that Sophia enrolled in a few classes on French technique, and while she would always prefer the Italian desserts, she did grow to appreciate the method. 

After dropping Robert off at the train station, Sophia took Hannibal to her favorite cafe in Montmarte. It was busy enough for people watching, but private enough to where they were almost alone with everyone. 

"I haven't hunted since Italy." Sophia stated rather bluntly.

"Has the opportunity not presented itself?"

"Oh no, it has on many occasions. I imagined sometimes how I would do things, step by step, but there was never the sense of joy to it. I knew that it would never be as sweet or special because you wouldn't be there to witness it."

"We will have to alleviate that."

Quickly changing the subject, she continued, "Realistically, what's the next step. I'm sure the FBI has informed Interpol, and I don't think France would be so keen on harboring you. I'm sure I could be charged with some version of aiding and abetting..."

"I wouldn't allow that to happen." Hannibal said, matter of factly. "I would, if I had to, say that you were my hostage."

"Play the Stockholm Syndrome card?" She said, sipping her coffee.

"I wouldn't worry about such things. I suspected that things were going to turn for the worse months ago, so that allowed me the time to properly prepare for this. We can go anywhere. Portugal. Iceland. Morocco. The options are endless."

"Will I have to change my name again?"

"No."

"I really don't care where we go. I just want to be with you. I'm thankful your uncle has been here these past few months."

"He has grown rather fond of you."

"Well, I do have that effect on people." Sophia said cheekily.

"Shall we cook together tonight?" Hannibal asked.

"Of course! Shall we have a competition? Your coq au vin against mine?"

"How about you prepare the main dish and I'll take care of the dessert. I'm rather fond of tarte tatin."

"It's an apple tarte! No special techniques to teach?" 

Hannibal knew she was referencing the tomato flower lesson he gave her months ago. 

"There is beauty in simplicity, Sophia."

Later while they shopped for ingredients, he listened to her talk about how she loved the idea of purchasing ingredients every day. She felt it made life a little more spontaneous, and it was a lovely change from her time in Italy. Sophia never talked about Minnesota. She didn't even ask how Will or Alana were doing. Hannibal knew that if she really was curious she wouldn't be shy about asking, but then again, she knew that sometimes knowing what's become of someone is sometimes worse than not knowing. There were times when ignorance truly was bliss. 

Listening to her recently acquired knowledge of wine pairings filled him up with a sense of pride that he almost forgot existed. It was almost as if they were never separated at all. 

 

As the two continued to clean up the kitchen after their "reunion" dinner as Sophia called it, Hannibal put on a disc of music by Robert Schumann. Walking back into the kitchen he saw the smile lingering on Sophia's face. 

"You're a fan of Schumann?"

"I love him. Even before all of this..." She said as she waved a finger around her ear and neck wounds. "I love his wife's work even more."

"Ah, Clara. They were a very interesting pair." Hannibal added as he folded up a towel.

"There's a lot to be said about their devotion to one another. My old music teacher, the same one who showed our class Amadeus, was a HUGE fan of the Schumanns. He played their music any chance he could, and by that time I thought Beethoven was an overrated hack."

"Oh, one must not brush aside his genius." Hannibal said as he pulled her in for a hug.

"I see that now, but I didn't want to back then. It was like when you first left me in Florence; I spent a few days a bit frustrated, but glad at the same time because while I was alone, I was alive. I didn't even mourn the loss of an ear. I just felt betrayed again."

"Betrayed?"

"I was alone all of my life, even with my family. And when you and Will saved me from my father, I thought that I wasn't going to be so alone anymore. That didn't pan out so well, obviously, but when you took me to Italy I felt like everything was going to finally fall into place."

"Only I left you alone." Hannibal finished her sentence, her isolation finally dawning on him.

"I now understand that all of that loneliness led up to this: what is happening right here. One cannot appreciate the sweet without having to taste the bitter."

Hannibal grabbed the sides of her face and focused his vision on hers. 

"Those days are over."

"I know." Sophia whispered.

A while later the two were laying on the bed in her room when a disc of Faure's best work started playing. Sophia tried to suppress the smile on her face, and didn't wait for Hannibal to question it.

"This reminds me of that night you took me to see Mozart's 'Requiem' in Florence."

"Your night of catharsis."

"Yes. I can't multitask when I listen to Faure's "Requiem Op. 48." I have to give it my complete attention whenever it comes on." She added.

Hannibal took her words as an opportunity to test out her concentration. He began to kiss her and soon his lips slowly made their way down her neck. He could feel the quickening of her pulse, the heat rising to her skin, and the music in the background served as the most worthy of soundtracks to this moment. 

He wanted to ask her how her concentration was working, but he only brought his lips lower and lower upon her flesh. What was months of being apart felt like years when he thought about it. Hannibal began to slowly remove her clothing. He allowed his hands to slowly savor what wasn't allowed during their separation. 

The fact that the piece of music was a religious one didn't pass over Sophia as she felt the worship that could only come from the intricate man that was her protector. Trying to focus on the music, she knew such a thing would be lost as soon as he removed her undergarments. 

Watching him through hooded eyes, Sophia finally closed them when she felt his tongue in her. As if matching to the crescendo of the music, her chest rose off of the bed. Rather than focus on the symphony that was on the stereo, she watched her own conductor at work as she tried to keep her moans in check. 

"Relax into it Abigail." Hannibal said.

It almost sounded odd hearing that name from him, but it was welcomed at the same time. 

"I want to touch you." She responded, trying to pull him up to her face level. 

He couldn't and didn't deny her request. Pausing when their eyes met, she smiled as she traced her fingers along the contours of his face. 

"Worried you would forget?" Hannibal asked.

"No. A wise man taught me the importance of patience. Shall I consider you my reward?"

"What if I considered you the same?" 

"Kiss me." She requested, and he obliged. 

Their pace was slow and drawn out, and as Sophia placed her hands on his neck and continued to pull him in. As always, closer was never close enough. There was something to be said for taking time to catch up, but the two figured that they had all of the time in the world for that. 

Guiding himself into her, he was slow in his motions. Grabbing onto him for dear life, she started moving beneath him. It didn't take long for him to fasten the pace, but before he could seek completion, she took advantage and flipped him onto his back. Still connected, she released the months of pent emotions due to his absence to fuel her desire. Grazing her lips across his chest, she kept eye contact with him. Even in the dark, her blues stood out. Slash mark across the neck, a missing ear, Hannibal knew that her eyes would never be sacrificed; it would go against anything and everything he held to be sacred.

Sitting up, she continued to move in a slow, drawn out manner. Hannibal ran his hands over her body, feeling the connection that was forged from the very first moment he placed his hands on her neck to save her life. 

As she leaned her head back, he realized that she could do this every time they made love and he would still look at her as if it was the first time all over again. Just by listening to her he could tell that she was close. Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her and met her body with more force. He knew this would do the trick for the both of them. Smothering flesh with flesh, she screamed into his neck, and the echo of sound turned him on even more. 

"Come for me." She whispered against him lips. 

Holding her tighter and kissing her wounds, he closed his eyes and imagined flowers as they bloomed, the Venus flytrap as it ensnared its victim, and it hit him that she had somehow trapped him just as much as he originally intended on trapping her. 

And then it was done.

Listening to each other's breath, she gripped him tighter and felt his skin curve into her hand. Kissing his hair, she matched her cheek to his and smiled before speaking.

"I'd say you should go away more often if this is what a reunion would feel like, but I'm selfish." 

Hannibal pulled her down on top of him as they allowed their heartbeats to match up with their breathing. He wrapped his arms around her back. Moments later he heard her breath even out and knew that she was asleep. Still wide awake, be wondered what his next step should be. Paris was lovely, but it wasn't going to be an option in the long run. He yearned to go back to Florence, but given how he wasn't shy about his admiration of the city, he expected Interpol to check Italy out first. Pondering where to go next, he too fell asleep. All would be figured out in given time. Right now his priority was the woman in his arms.

3 months later

Bruges, Belgium

"Would you please zip me up?" Sophia Larsen asked as she held up her hair. 

The dress was a lovely eggplant purple shade which made her eyes stand out. Hannibal obliged her request, taking advantage by running his fingers up her back as he zipped her up. Turning around, she straightened out his tie and whispered a "merci beaucoup" before brushing her hands over his shoulders. 

"I've heard nothing but good reviews about the touring company. Their selections from Beethoven should be immaculate." 

"Hopefully it will live up to the hype." Sophia said as she touched up her lipstick. 

Looking at him in the mirror, she thought about how easy it was for them to adapt to a new city in such a short period of time. Uncle Robert kept them in the loop, and while there was the fear that they would be discovered, she gained confidence from Hannibal's confidence. She trusted his instincts just as much as she trusted her own. She now understood that there was nothing more to fear. If he ever was caught, she would be protected. 

"Shall we go? It would be rude of us to be late." Hannibal said as he held his hand out to hers. 

"Indeed it would be."


End file.
